Iam tired of fighting fate. Weighing every decision, calculating all the possible outcomes. Constantly leaping over obstacles for my own twisted idea of the greater good.
If Ezryn wants to fight me, fine. Fight me. Realms know I’ve been delaying this for centuries.
But if Ezryn wants to kill me … Well, that’s not happening. Not today.
He’s not the only one with people to protect.
The clang of his steel blade against my own, crafted of obsidian shadows, echoes through the marble pillars. We trade blows back and forth. Though I’ve trained in swordplay, I’ve never enjoyed it the way Keldarion does. But today, the fury inside of me finds solace in the brutality of steel seeking flesh.
I give ground, dancing back before jumping on the precipice that looks over the lower city below. The rising tide and flooded canal have turned it into nothing but rushing water, ready to swallow everything whole.
Ezryn leaps up to meet me, and again, I give ground, letting him be the aggressor. Every movement is a calculated risk. When I notice his foot too far over the edge, I strike, kicking him in the chest and backflipping onto the pavement with a cat-footed landing. Ezryn loses his balance, but the bastard recovers, mouth curved back in a snarl.
He lunges, blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. I parry, our swords a blur of silver and black. He fights with a grace that belies his strength. Even without a Blessing, he remains one of the best fighters in the realms. I’d almost be impressed if I wasn’t so fucking furious.
I’m not even angry at Ezryn.
I’m angry at Kel.
All these years he’s let me believe that hebetrayedme. That he first broke the covenant of our love. Every action I’ve taken, from petty revenge, the hopelessness and despair I’d fallen into—
Oh, I’m going to fucking survive this fight. I’m going to fucking survive it just so I can get to Keldarion and tell him what a rotten, pigheaded, selfish, idiotic, icy bastard he is.
I press forward, the ache in my arms a welcome distraction. Below, the waters roar with triumph as the city falls.
“Does it make you feel powerful?” Ezryn yells, his words carrying over the clash of our blades. “To destroy the homes of the innocent? To unleash the undead upon the living?”
There’s no bother trying to explain the truth of it. Besides, what defense do I hold?
I could have stopped this. Could have claimed the Green Flame.
But is one death better than another?
Instead, I draw from the decades-old grief I carry with me and hone it to anger. “Just as powerful as you must have felt ordering trained Winter soldiers upon the innocents of Cryptgarden.”
“There are no innocents in Cryptgarden.”
“Not anymore.”
The pillars cast long shadows as we dance between them. How easy it would be to call upon all of my powers. I could propel myself upward with my thorns, wrap my shadows around his body, then eviscerate him with the Green Flame.
He’ll never stop trying to kill me. One of us will have to die for the other to live.
Why shouldn’t I do it?
Mercy. Empathy. Compassion. These have been my bane all these years. If only I’d never felt warmth from a woman in the desert. If only I’d never given a rose to a teetering child who taught herself to walk. If only I’d carved out my heart before my mate bond had a chance to find the most brilliant, brave woman.Curse the O’Connell women! And curse the men who love them!
Ezryn feints to my left, drawing my attention for a split second before pivoting and delivering a powerful blow to my wrist with his closed fist. My grip slackens, and the shadow blade spirals out of my hand, skittering across the ground.
“Every day that passes, I regret not killing you when you first stepped foot into Castletree.” Ezryn kicks my chest, and I fall.
“You’ll have to die with that regret,” I say sadly. “I didn’t want things to end like this, Ezryn. But I see there’s no other way.”
I’m done playing. This game, at least. One of us will have to die, and I have business to attend to. A sense of deep sadness fills my heart as my briars lift me up into the air. I steal the shadows from the pillars, drawing them to form spears at my side. I feel my eyes flash with internal flame. “I’m sorry, Ezryn. Just so you know … I cheated at one of our games. You’ve got one on me. I hope that brings you solace in the end.”
Ezryn’s eyes widen and he staggers backward as I draw my shadow spears up—
A guttural pain lances through my heart. I cry out, and fall forward out of my briars, landing hard on the stone. Ezryn makes a similar sound, collapsing to all fours. Both of us clutch our chests. There is no visible wound, yet it feels as if my soul is rendering apart. Tears flood my eyes, and I can’t help but weep.
